


Some Other Spring

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Mind Reading, Oral, Rimming, Suit Kink, Telepathy, Time Travel, attempt at plot, magic kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas can't control his abilities and he accidentally send him and Dean back to 1944. He also accidentally reads Dean's mind and learns everything that Dean want to do to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Other Spring

Cas’s grip was soft and ginger as his fingers pressed into Dean’s jacket. Dean glanced at him but his eyes were on the ground. They moved quickly, faster than before, and it was like Cas was trying to lead him.   
Then Dean heard it, loud and clear, in his head.   
“The man in the suit is an engineer, one of the angels who created the weapons that Balthazar stole.”   
Dean looked and yes, there was a young man in a suit, maybe a bit too young for a suit like that. His hair was long and slicked back and his gray eyes were trained on Dean and the angel.   
“Don’t stare. Don’t let him know you’re onto him.” He heard once more in his head. He turned his eyes back down. “He’s on Raphael’s side.”  
They were almost past the guy when he could feel his organs tighten, his stomach knot up, pressure increasing like electrical bursts or sparks around him. He felt this whenever Cas was about to transport them somewhere. He was prepped for it.  
But they didn’t vanish. The engineer turned, angelic brass knuckles dusting his fingers and he was swinging at Cas. Cas let go f Dean and tossed out his angel blade, ready to fight, to protect his charge to the death. He blocked most of the engineers attacks, sidestepping others, and even sliced through the attackers arm with the angel blade, but this guy was quick for a little nerd.   
He climbed into Cas’s personal space, not giving him any room to swing his blade and he was punching Cas in the gut. None of it was doing too much damage but then he swiped and his angelic brass knuckles slid through Cas’s shirt, staining them burgundy and a flashing white. Cas was crying out and he was no longer fighting, but stepping back, retreating.   
He grabbed a hold of Dean and they were gone, hopefully not to be followed.

Dean was standing in the middle of a factory. There was screaming and rushing coming from another room. Someone was shouting something about Germans and then Dean was running too, running over to the room where all of the noise was. There were men covered in grease and oil, guns in some of their hands and they were aiming it at the barely conscious angel on the factory floor.   
Pushed past them getting between them and Cas, and fell to his side. Cas was bleeding, the wound in his chest seeping, but there was more blood in his mouth. It reminded Dean of when all three of them, Cas, Sam, and him, had all gone back to save his mom. Actually, it was exactly like that, but this time there was more screaming about Nazis and experiments.   
Cas’s hands were tight on his arm but he could feel how weak the angel was. The fact that there were gun barrels in their faces definitely wasn’t making them anything near comfortable.   
Then there was more shouting and this time another man, thinner than the rest, a bit better dressed, suspenders hanging down and undershirt filthy, busted in past the others. He had a revolver in his hand but he wasn’t aiming it at Cas, he wasn’t aiming it anyone. He was holding it up. And he only stopped when he was standing between the two and the mob.  
“Everyone back to your stations!” he growled. Everyone else shut up.  
“But they just appeared!” one of the other men argued, “That ain’t normal!”  
“No, it isn’t.” their protector glared, “But that doesn’t mean they’re Nazis or German’s or anything.” He finally turned to Dean. “Where are you from, boy?”  
Boy. Huh. This guy was probably only a few years older than him.   
“Lawrence.” Dean admitted, “Kansas. My friend. He’s from Pontiac, Illinois.”  
“Kansas and Illinois.” Their protector turned back to the rest of them, “Do they sound like Germans to you?”  
They all just shifted and stared at their feet.  
“That’s what I thought. Now you go on back to work.”  
With some grumbling and stumbling the rest of the men turned back to their stations. They did not seem happy but they did their work and the man who had stepped in the way knelt down.   
He stroked Cas’s face and the angel leaned into it, receiving a bit of comfort from him. Dean felt a surge of jealousy all of a sudden, like this man wasn’t allowed to touch Cas, but he did nothing.   
“Do you have anywhere to stay?” the man asked. Dean just shook his head. “Well then, I guess you’d better come with me.”  
He stood and Dean pulled him and Cas up. The angel could hardly stand and he clung to Dean in order to keep from falling. Dean was sure not to let him fall.   
They went outside and none of the cars were modern. Nothing was modern. With Dean’s knowledge of history he was thinking early to mid 40’s. The man leading them had a car, a ford, black, and he opened the door for them. He didn’t speak to them again until he was in the driver’s seat and they were moving.   
Dean told him everything. The guy didn’t believe him, of course he didn’t. Angels don’t exist. But then he looked back, looked into Cas’s eyes and he did. He believed every word of it. Because it was true. He told them they could stay at his place for a while.   
Dean lowered Cas down onto the bed in the spare room. There were propaganda and recruitment posters on the wall, a few books on the shelves. It was very much a teenagers room. Cas fell asleep almost immediately.   
The man, Clay, was digging through the closet. There was a lot of clothing in there, more than there should be in a spare room, and he finally pulled out a suit. It was lean and charcoal and absolutely beautiful. He handed it to Dean.   
“This is my sons. You seem to be about the same size.” He mentioned.   
Dean looked the suit over. “Where is your son?”  
“He went to war.” Clay was quiet at that.   
Dean closed his eyes. 1944. The war was almost over. Clay’s son wasn’t coming home. He knew that. He could hear it in his voice.   
“I’m sorry.” Dean mentioned.   
“Hm.” Clay turned and left, leaving Dean alone with the sleeping angel in the room of a dead boy.   
Dean slid into the suit and it was a bit tight in the shoulders, a bit loose in the waist, but it fit most of the way. Then he sat next to Cas.   
The angel was hot and sweating, his raven hair curling over his forehead. Dean wanted to take off his coats, get him more comfortable and that would do nothing but wake him up. He didn’t want to wake Cas up. He needed rest.  
His lips, his prefect pink lips, were slightly parted and his breath came out in light little puffs. Dean wanted to feel it, wanted to kiss away the blood stain and the chapped feeling. He wanted to kiss away the fear and the pain and the longing to atone.   
‘Just kiss him.’ He thought. ‘He’ll never know. He’s asleep. It’s not like he could feel it. Just kiss him. Kiss him.’  
Cas grabbed him, a hand hard against his neck and he pulled Dean down. Dean didn’t know what to do as he felt Cas’s mouth, a hard line, crash against his own.   
He pulled away.   
Cas was staring, eyes wide, at Dean and he still looked so tired and weak. But now he looked hurt, rejection altering his features.   
“I’m sorry.” Cas muttered, “I. I couldn’t help it.”  
Dean couldn’t even think straight. He just stared.   
“When that engineer cut me, I think, I think he infected me with something. I can’t control my abilities, that’s why we travelled back here. I can’t stop from reading your mind. I can see everything within a two block radius Dean. I’m sorry. I know you do not like my intrusions. “  
Dean blinked and then he stood up and then he walked out of the room. Cas’s eyes were on him the entire time. He went through the house, Clay only looking at him confusedly, and left. He was half way down the block before what Cas had done made any sense.  
Cas had kissed him.  
It was without elegance, it was surprising, but it was a real honest kiss. Cas had read Dean’s mind and had found that Dean wanted to kiss him. Dean had always wanted to kiss him but he’d always just brushed it off. Now Cas had read it and he had taken the step that Dean never could.   
And Dean realized what he had done. He hadn’t kissed Cas back, he hadn’t thanked him for taking the action for him, he hadn’t said a word. He had left and the look on Cas’s face, it was one of such utter worry and rejection. The fact that Dean had left without a word must have crushed him.   
He sprinted back to the house, the suit chafing. He raced up the stairs, leaving the door open, and burst into the spare room. Cas was lying there, curled in on himself, trying to heal and he looked so damaged. Like the lack of words had been a physical wound.   
Dean turned him, hand hard on his shoulder. Cas sank in on himself as if he thought Dean’s next move may be something other than affection. Knowing their history it came as no surprise. But Dean lay on top of him, pinning him under him and he kissed him hard. Cas’s fingers gripped at the suit and pulled, forcing Dean harder against him. He opened his mouth and allowed Dean to enter, to lick at the inside of his mouth and traced the shape of his teeth with his tongue.   
He memorized Cas’s mouth, the taste of him, the need there. And Cas let him, laying there and not denying him anything. Dean’s mind was on the kiss, was on Cas, was on all of the dirty terrible things he wanted to do to the angel if only he weren’t hurt. He hoped that Cas was still reading his mind.   
Considering how Cas’s hands moved, sliding down Dean’s body and moving the jacket of the jacket to get to the waistcoat and in further, against his waist he was. Dean moved his lips away from Cas’s feeling the rush of air against his cheek as Cas whined, moving his lips down to the angel’s jaw, trailing kisses there and bringing more delicious little noises from Cas.   
His hands were traveling through Cas’s clothes in a symmetrical pattern to what Cas was doing to him. He got to Cas’s belt, hands pausing on the buckle and he bit his lip. Everything Cas was doing, it was in response to what Dean was thinking. What if Cas didn’t actually want this?  
“I want you to be happy.” Cas muttered, kissing his hairline, “If fornication would bring you pleasure I wish for nothing more.”  
But that wasn’t what Dean needed, that wasn’t what he had to hear. He threaded his fingers through Cas’s hair and kissed him once more, softer this time. He was hard in his pants, the extra room in the waist saving him from being too constrained. Lying on top of Cas though, he could feel that the angel wasn’t even half way erect.   
“But do you want this?” he asked, trying to read Cas’s expressions.  
“Kiss me again.” Cas pleaded and Dean was only glad to obey.  
This time it wasn’t just Cas he saw but everything that Cas was or could have been. He saw the beginnings of time, the end of Leviathan, the birth of humanity. He saw cities fall and empires rise, fish trying to walk on sandy beaches, mangled and distressed.   
He saw every betrayal, every fall, every lie. He saw every success, every victory, every truth. He saw Hell in a new light and Heaven in old. He saw every motion and every thought.   
But one word shown through like gold weaving its way through every molecule of Cas’s thoughts. One single syllable controlled the winds of Cas’s reasoning’s. And that syllable was simply ‘Dean’.  
And Dean was starving now, pushing Cas into the bed and ripping at his clothing, rutting against his hip. His hands were everywhere and so so needy. He needed to touch, to feel every bit of Cas, be inside and feel him inside all at once.   
The cut, the wound from the engineer, was thin and dry. It didn’t look like much, just a little cat scratch, but it was hot against Cas’s skin and when Dean touched it it wept a line of puss and toxins. Dean was careful to leave it alone, to not hurt Cas further.  
Cas was still not hard when he’d pulled the last of his clothing away. This was their first time and surely after what Dean had seen in his head Cas was excited for this, had been waiting centuries. Again though, doubt flooded his mind.   
“You do want this, right?” Dean remembered Cas’s thought, his knowledge on Nephilim. He knew that this, loving an angel, was against the laws of Heaven. He knew how scared Cas was of becoming an abomination.  
“The abomination is the Nephilim, not the parents.” Cas explained, fingers intertwining with Dean’s. “Yes, this is frowned upon in Heaven, but I do not care. We are at war anyway. I do want you, physically.”  
And yet he still wasn’t hard. Dean started to trail kisses along Cas’s throat, feeling his stubble scratch at his lips. He brought them up over his jaw and then to Cas’s lips and he thought. He fantasized what he had every night for the last 2 years. He pictured every angel destroying thing he had wanted to do to Cas since he’d met him.   
Cas’s lips were rough and cruel against him and, yes, there we go, he was hard and begging for Dean to do all of those vile and wonderful things to him. Dean smiled and pulled off of him, ready to undress.   
Cas rose up with him though, lips on his adams apple and he was sliding off the almost fitted jacket and then hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off of him but making sure to leave him wearing the tie. He undid the belt but did not pull it away, did not remove Dean’s trousers. Instead he slid his hand inside, gripped and tugged at Dean’s erection and the human was whining already, head tilted back and eyes closed. It was a simple touch, something he’d done a thousand times but it was Cas that was doing it and that made it feel like ecstasy.   
Then Cas pulled his pants off and was trailing his teeth and his lips down Dean’s chest, trailing kisses down his freckled abdomen.   
Dean chuckled but grabbed Cas’s shoulders, knocking him back down and pinning him once more.   
“Let me take care of you.” Dean nibbled at his ear. Cas just nodded and made a whining sound. Dean pulled the tie off from around his neck and wrapped it around Cas’s. He may need something to hold onto.   
Cas lay there, fingers knotting in Dean’s hair as well as the sheets and Dean was licking long stripes down Cas’s torso, pausing at nipples and suckling, teeth brushing against sensitive nubs. Cas tried to get closer and further away all at once, unused to the sensation and a loud moan escaped his lips.   
The light bulb in the lamp beside them burst at the sound of his voice. The two of them stared at it for a moment and, while Cas looked apologetic, he softened once Dean laughed. He really had no control over his abilities like this.   
“You’re not going to, like, accidently zap me to another continent, right?” Dean asked, nuzzling into Cas’s neck.   
“I don’t think I’m strong enough for that.” Cas admitted, “Breaking glass and healing seem to be my limit right now.”  
“And telekinesis.” Dean reminded him.  
“It’s telepathy.” Cas corrected, “But yes, I can still do a bit of telekinesis.”  
He waved his hand and the still open door shut behind Dean. It was a bit late but maybe Clay would remain safe from the visuals of the two men together. Dean doubted anything could protect him from hearing.   
Dean continued his work on Cas though, sucking hard on flesh until it blossomed into angry hickies and Cas was writhing beneath him, wanting Dean to get on with it. Dean licked at his pelvis and sucked the sweet hot precome from where it had pooled onto Cas’s flat stomach. His fingers traveled to Cas’s mouth and he sucked on them, proving Dean’s inkling hope that he would be great around his cock to be accurate.   
When his fingers were soaking wet he brought them down to Cas’s hole, breathing through his own nervousness before sliding one finger inside.   
Cas stiffened and his breath hitched and Dean stroked his chest, shushing him and thinking of his own experiences with this. He’d never had another person do this to him, he’d been too embarrassed to ask a girl, but he had experimented on his own. The pain would fade soon.   
“You don’t have any magic lube or anything, do you?” he asked. He’d heard that birds had oils in their wings somewhere; maybe angels had something like that.  
“A moment.” Cas whined, “Let me concentrate.”  
Dean pulled out of him and Cas shut his eyes, straining what was left of his abilities. It looked like it hurt. But then he opened his hand and there was a small tube of lubricant there. Dean used it to coat Cas’s hole and his fingers before pushing back inside.   
Cas was much more relaxed, the exertion taking a lot out of him and the lube making everything so much easier. He moaned and gasped, trying to hide his true voice while Dean opened him up, his fingers sliding him open and a second making it possible for him to stretch and scissor at Cas’s anus.   
A crack appeared in the window and Cas shut his mouth. He didn’t want to break everything in the room.   
None of that mattered to Dean though and he bent forward, taking Cas in his mouth and humming around the erection. It was a large presence in his mouth, applying pressure to his tongue and making him feel so damn useful. He swirled his tongue and watched Cas’s reactions. He was an artist and this was his art, Cas his audience. And he was so good with his strokes, knowing just the right amount to put where, what shades to apply.   
He wanted Cas like that forever.   
He slid in another finger and Cas’s grip hurt in Dean’s hair, tugging too much. It didn’t stop Dean from swallowing, from staring up at Cas as his back arched and he almost screamed, his orgasm hitting him like a freight liner. He shuddered and came, his spunk a hot thin line in Dean’s mouth, trailing down his throat. He drank Cas down with pride.   
He pulled his fingers out and Cas was whining, thrusting his his hips into the air, begging to be filled back up. Dean smirked and grabbed those raised hips, pulling Cas into his lap. He tickled at Cas’s ribs and received a playful slap for trying to distract him from the pleasure Dean was promising. That made Dean laugh even more.   
He hadn’t laughed this much in a long time, this hard since he’d taken Cas to that brothel. Now it made so much sense, why Cas was so afraid of the women there. Cas hadn’t wanted women. He’d wanted Dean.  
“This isn’t right.” Dean pulled Cas up so that he was straddling Dean’s hips, sitting upright and his head slightly above Dean’s. “I wanted to take you to dinner, give you flowers, do the whole romantic shebang.”  
“Dean Winchester doesn’t do romantic.” Cas chuckled, kissing Dean’s eyelids.  
“No. I don’t. But I would. For you, Cas, I’m afraid I would do just about anything.”  
Cas scooted up and allowed Dean to slide his aching and red cock inside of him. At first it was just the head and Cas made a face like it hurt too much. Dean wanted to pull out, soothe him, but then Cas sat down, hard, and pushed Dean all of the way inside of him. He sighed at the feeling of fullness at the reprieve of Dean being past that tender ring of muscle at the beginning.  
“I have done more for you than any would think possible.” Cas bucked his hips, searching for a better angle, “And I will consider to do so.”  
Dean took over, clutching Cas’s hips and pushing the angel up and down, giving a rhythm and his head was thrown back. He didn’t know what he was saying but a lot of it was just wordless “Oh God”s, “Oh fuck”s, and “so fucking perfect, oh yeah, just like that”s. Cas was so tight, pulling him in, his virgin hole sucking him in and threatening to never let go.   
Cas was trying so hard to be quiet, to just take all of Dean and keep his mouth closed, his eyes steady. But it was amazing, Dean inside of him, like being possessed but only in one spot and that spot was so sensitive so needy to be touched and prodded. He couldn’t help but cry out at certain intervals.   
Dean just cackled when the window shattered. They’d have to buy Clay a new one.   
Cas’s body was like a vice and as he was led over Dean’s body, the human knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer. Cas was making such glorious sounds though, when he slipped and they tumbled from his lips. Dean wanted him to make those forever. Dean wanted to fuck him in a field, with no one around for miles, and let Cas really let go. He wanted to take him rough and hard and then soft and kind. He wanted to show Cas everything that copulation could be. And he didn’t want Cas to restrain himself. He wanted every cry, every moan, every gasp, every loose tongued slip of enochian. He wanted to hear and memorize every pleasured sound Cas had to keep inside.   
Dean stopped moving Cas and held him steady, fucking into him with just his hips. Cas’s eyes widened as the thrusts became more violent. They locked onto Dean’s and for a moment he thought he was hurting Cas but then he cried out and the wall cracked. This was good.   
“I think.” Dean gasped, “Oh God, Cas, I fucking. I think I, ah, I love you.”  
Cas bit his lip, drawing blood and Dean once again just wanted to lick and kiss it away. “Hn. Dean.” He groaned out, restraining himself, “Ah! Loved you, since, fuck, oh yes, oh god, since my, oh, creation! Always you, always ah, ah, ahhhhhhhhhm, waiting for you.”  
Dean stiffened, every muscle in his body locking and he was drawing blood from his own lip. He splashed into Cas’s thin frame, fighting every urge to scream. His fingers were bruising at Cas’s hips, his orgasm the strongest it had ever been. He could see nothing and he could only see Cas all at once. His vision blanked out to white but at the same time he could still see Cas’s bright blue eyes, his pink and red lips, his soft long fingers stroking his face.  
He didn’t realize that he was crying until he came down and Cas was waiting for him. The angel was wiping the tears away and kissing at his face where they were leaving wet trails. Dean wrapped his arms around him and turned them, laying once more on the bed.   
He was tired but he couldn’t stop. He kissed at Cas’s body, being careful of the thin cut in his chest, his fingers and hands everywhere. Cas was lean and long and strong. He didn’t have defined muscles but Dean could feel them and he knew how inhumanly strong he really was.   
And Dean was healed.  
He was still touching Cas and the angel had no control over his abilities. He still felt the cleansing wash of Grace over him, still recognized it as the healing ability that Cas possessed, cleaning out the toxins and little cuts and bruises from nameless battle with demons and furniture.   
It also healed his flaccid penis and he filled once more, both of them did, and they were both painfully erect once more, although now even more sensitive.   
“My apologies.” Cas murmured.  
Dean fell against him, rutting into the blankets and kissing away the worry. “Why isn’t it affecting your chest?”  
“It’s a new weapon.” Cas touched it, worriedly, “I fear it will greatly cripple my army. This may be what tips the scale, puts victory on Raphael. I cannot lift it.”  
“How long until it heals up?”  
“It’s already started. Four days, tops.”  
Dean looked around the room, it was a mess of broken glass and plaster. “We’re going to have to get a motel room then. If you keep getting us all hot and bothered I don’t think Clay’s house will stay standing.”  
“I’ll make some repairs.” Cas promised.   
“See that you do,” Dean buried his face into Cas’s hair.   
He had entered Cas, had done things he’d wanted for so long. But he was still whole, had not been torn apart under Cas’s care. He was surprised that he wanted it, to have Cas inside of him, to open him up like Dean had him.   
He was even more surprised when Cas grabbed him and flipped him over and away, sitting up so Dean’s legs were on either side of his own, his bare ass in the air.   
He hadn’t said a word but Cas could still read him and he knew all of Dean’s secrets now.   
Dean muffled his aroused groan into the bed as Cas entered his sensitive hole with his tongue. Cas was delicate, soft, licking the exterior before pressing in and circling inside. He pressed in and oh fuck, it was so hot and wet and Dean was grinding against the bed, whimpering into the blankets, hoping that Clay couldn’t hear.   
He hadn’t noticed that a phonograph player had been turned on and the volume raised to the max before.   
Cas licked up from the hole all the way up Dean’s crack as he poured more from the bottle of lube into his hand. He kept it on his hand to let it warm up before finally pressing into Dean.   
Dean had done this before. He had done this to himself hundreds of times. He wasn’t expecting it to feel this different  
But it felt like dying, like drowning, and he was falling and flying all at once, all in all grounded but Cas’s loving hands. He was easily coaxed open with one and two was drawing out tight little whines that Dean couldn’t hold back.   
Cas was moaning too and he wasn’t even doing anything yet. Dean looked over his shoulder at him, seeing the angel staring into him, watching as flesh met flesh.   
“So beautiful.” Cas explained, breathily, “Like you were made for this.”  
“More, Cas, please?” Dean begged although he didn’t know if he could take it.   
Cas slid his fingers out and slicked his own cock up with lubricant, pulling on Dean’s hips to keep his erection from rubbing against the bed.   
Dean called out, eyes wide, mouth lax as Cas pressed in. His muscles weren’t used to this, didn’t know how to handle it, and holy fire singed his insides. Cas stopped though, nestled deep inside, hands running circles and shapes into Dean’s back. He didn’t move his hips until Dean was completely relaxed.   
Then the pace was brutal, fast, angelic. Everything angels did was rushed, powerful, as if the endpoint was the only one worth anything. Dean thought he might come from this alone, Cas pushing into him, filling him with heat and power and love and he buried his face further.   
Cas slowed down though, just at the moment he thought he couldn’t take any more. The pace was still brutal, but brutal because of the suspense, because Dean didn’t know when Cas was going to slide deep inside once more. Each time felt like it was longer.   
“Please?” he begged into the sheets, “Please, Cas.”  
And the angel grabbed his cock, sped back up but not as fast as when he had started, and kept the rhythm on both of their cock consistent. Too much. Dean was too sensitive, he couldn’t control himself. He screamed loud enough for Clay to hear over the music as he came, staining the dead boy’s sheets. He tensed and yes, he could feel Cas coming too, filling him with hot semen.   
When Cas let go of him he collapsed and he hoped that Cas wouldn’t heal him once more. He didn’t think he’d survive another round.   
But Cas wasn’t done. He hoisted Dean’s thighs onto his shoulders, bending forward to lick once more at Dean’s ass. He was so sensitive and so strung out, he could only hiss at the sensation. Then Cas latched down, sucked, and licked into him, drawing out his own spunk and swallowing it down.   
When Dean was thoroughly cleaned by Cas’s mouth the angel joined him, eyes heavily lid and almost asleep. Dean wrapped his arms around him, pulled him in tight, and they both slept in the cooling pool of Dean’s semen.   
When they woke up they had another round and this one was slow and sweet and as romantic as Dean had intended the first to be.   
Clay glared and mentioned something about how sodomy was illegal and he was never going into his son’s bedroom again. He didn’t stop glaring as they ate breakfast and Dean had never eaten so much in his life. If Clay was so mad, there was no reason that he would have made them eggs, sausage, AND bacon. Something about how he glared made Dean feel like they were being approved of too.   
Cas did what he could to fix the damage and Dean promised Clay that the war would be over soon, that his son had helped to end it. America wins. Clay hugged him at that. He told Dean that he was thinking of leaving his job. Angels exist, he wanted to learn about the others. The Chevy dealership would be fine without him.   
And Dean knew the life of hunting, dissuaded him from it. 13 years, he told him, in 13 years there will be a car made at your factory and it will stop the world from ending. He had an important job and he’d better do it right.   
He and Cas did get a motel room and they did destroy it and Dean got to give Cas flowers and take him to dinner and do all of the romantic things he had intended. Dean was almost sad when they left, returned to their own time. He knew that they couldn’t be constantly intimate around Sam. It would probably be best if Sam didn’t know in all actuality.


End file.
